"I'm down 'ere now on special work," he ses, "looking arter sailormen."
"Wot ha' they been doing?" ses Sam.
"When I say looking arter, I mean protecting 'em," ses the tec. "Over and over agin some pore feller, arter working 'ard for months at sea, comes 'ome with a few pounds in 'is pocket and gets robbed of the lot. There's a couple o' chaps down 'ere I'm told off to look arter special, but it's no good unless I can catch 'em red-'anded."
"Red-'anded?" ses Sam.
"With their hands in the chap's pockets, I mean," ses the tec.
Sam gave a shiver. "Somebody had their 'ands in my pockets once," he ses. "Four pun ten and some coppers they got."
"Wot was they like?" ses the tee, starting.
Sam shook his 'ead. "They seemed to me to be all hands, that's all I know about 'em," he ses. "Arter they 'ad finished they leaned me up agin the dock wall an' went off."
"It sounds like 'em," ses the tec, thoughtfully. "It was Long Pete and Fair Alf, for a quid; that's the two I'm arter."
He put his finger in 'is weskit-pocket. "That's who I am," he ses, 'anding Sam a card; "Detective-Sergeant Cubbins. If you ever get into any trouble at any time, you come to me."